Tesla: No Peace For Warriors
by Satan Claus
Summary: As the Alliance Fleet is increasing its size rapidly, alarm bells ring through the galaxy. Tensions are rising between the aliens and humanity. When Councillor Anderson is arrested and sent to jail secretly, only a few see through the deception of the Alliance Fleet. But they must remain wary, for the enemy they face is ruthless and will stop at nothing to get what they want.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Author's Notes:-

1. Image obtained from public domain section of mass effect wikia: wiki/Category:Public_domain_files

2. Enjoy. :)

3. Please Review. :)

* * *

2 weeks after the assault on Earth. August 5, 2186.

* * *

The man whose laughter currently filled his head had died on the assault on Earth. "I can handle it," he had announced to the man, at which he had promptly burst out. Today he understood why the man had laughed. Sirens drowned his laughter. "Alliance fleet incoming," the pilot's voice reverberated from all possible speakers. Irritated by the lack of sleep, he quickly headed to the nearest comm phone and shouted, "Turn the bloody siren down!"

Silence. The laughter returned. _Oh, don't you be sad. You'll get them out of this mess. _The inertial repressors screeched as the ship began to turn away from the Mass Relay. For a moment, Commander Jarvis wondered if he would be flung across his stateroom. Rule 1 of Safe Space Travel: All inanimate objects, small or big, must be attached to the ship, directly or not. His pen holder shook slightly, challenging Jarvis. He'd be in big trouble if the bolts came off. Quickly removing the thoughts of how his entrails would look on the door, he made his way to the bridge.

The bridge was a floor below him, pretty standard for a cruiser like _Tesla_. What wasn't standard was size of the room. Barring the symbolic galaxy map, any info it provided could be easily accessed from the Commander's terminal, everything else was smaller, making the map feel like the proverbial elephant in the room. None of the officers and sailors stood or saluted him, making him smile. An important lesson he had endowed his crew was the precedence of keeping the ship running over etiquettes.

"Captain," Jarvis said while looking at the info on the screen before him. Most other cruisers would have multiple junior co-pilots(engine, navigation, communication) lining a corridor leading up to the pilot, the Captain. _Tesla_, its job requiring heavy workforce and ship restructuring, had a small room with two seats (two co-pilots and no Captain) with enough place for eight or nine to stand. Being cut-off from the rest of the ship by a two-inch thick lead door, its surface area needed to be large enough to slow down the downward movement of smoke in case of a fire and easier access to the fire itself without jeopardizing the entire ship.

Captain Fellaini was too busy moving around windows, clicking on them, typing something on them to reply. Jarvis looked at the windows and smiled. He'd done this too when he was a pilot, hiding his game of solitaire. Jarvis let it slide. Fellaini was one of the best pilots in the entire fleet, specially commissioned to this ship owing to its downsized workforce. He'd never compromise the ship for nothing. And this was space, vast unto infinity. There was nothing near them, and nothing human, turian, salarian or, ugh, Reaper-ian would reach them in the time taken to finish a measly game of solitaire. Space's vastness provided ally and foe alike with security even a five feet thick hull couldn't match.

Multiple dots lined the mass relay four light minutes away, that is, the information was four minutes late. It wasn't much of a fleet; two heavy cruisers and a few cruisers. But compared to the one cruiser he commanded, it was more than enough. The fleet was 4 light minutes away, and at the current combined speed, point three light, contact would be achieved in just over thirteen minutes. Of course, the Alliance fleet had seen Jarvis' ship before Jarvis had seen them; they would have more time to adopt a strategy, most likely a message to surrender. "Incoming message," Fellaini, the pilot said on cue. A swipe on the screen later a tall Hispanic man, ranked Commander according to the stripes he wore, appeared on screen.

"Surrender _Tesla_ now. She is the property of the Alliance fleet. If you do so, retired Commander Jarvis, I will spare your crew," the man spoke quickly. The light from the fleet had reached had reached _Tesla_ just moments before Fellaini had sounded the alarms and now the crew of _Tesla _were just beginning to see how the fleet would counter _Tesla_'s movement. _Tesla_ had already begun emergency turnaround. Jarvis remembered the solitaire game Fellaini was hiding. Was he really playing? Unlikely, but unimportant.

"Well, what now?" asked Fellaini. The Mass Relay was the only way out of here. As Jarvis had expected, the heavy cruiser stayed near the Relay while the three cruisers rushed towards _Tesla._ _Tesla_ definitely wasn't going to surrender.

"Send a message," Jarvis said. Fellaini opened a connection for Jarvis and signaled him. "Commander," Jarvis started, "we have no intention of surrendering to anybody. Especially to rogues like you." _You'd think Fellaini wouldn't spot all the mischievous videoshopping?_ As technology got better, more and more advanced techniques of videoshopping a fake Commander's suit on a man had emerged. But technology was a double edged sword and _Tesla_'s advanced computer easily spotted the rushed attempts.

The distance between the _Tesla _and the cruisers had decreased to 3 light minutes. Slowly the velocities of the two sides balanced each other out as _Tesla_ completed its turn and accelerated. Another message from the "Commander." "You are the ones who have illegally taken over that ship. Since _Tesla _cannot fall into the hands of the enemy under any circumstance, we will start an attack unless we receive your surrender in the next message." _Nice try. _

Jarvis looked at Fellaini. "How long can we stay away from them without running out of critical supplies?"

"Four days. But if we do not leave this lifeless system within the next twelve hours, we will not have enough fuel to get to a fuel depot, in any system, on our own." The major problem was the 'any system' part. They came here only because this system had been abandoned by the Hegemony. Going to any other system would be going to Alliance territory. _Tesla _cannot be handed back to the Alliance fleet at any cost. Twelve hours meant he will be forced to turn back towards the Mass Relay in five hours. _Five hours... _Surrender would mean death. Death for his subordinates, and for him... The laughter returned again.

They had come here expecting support from the Human Front, the "terrorist organization allegedly funded by biotech giant Cerberus." The help wasn't here. Why? This ship would be crucial if Earth was to be won back from the Alliance scums, the bastards who have effectively hijacked the Hegemony into building more ship. "_Protection from further alien threat"_. Playing on the average earthman's fear and hatred on aliens, the Alliance managed to sign a massive deal with ship constructors. Jarvis feared the Alliance itself had been taken over by someone but now was not the time to speculate.

"Incoming message," spoke Fellaini, startled. He double checked the systems before looking over the shoulder to Jarvis, "From there." He was pointing at the second planet. No, not the second planet, the space station orbiting it. No, how could it be? The space station had been abandoned ten years ago, it seemed broken down and lacking many modules. Fellaini spoke, slower, "I did a residual heat check. Nothing." In space, removing heat from a body was almost impossible. To remove heat, most earth-based instruments used the air surrounding it. Space was all vacuüm. This meant that unless special ships that specialized in keeping the engines from overheating were used, the heat would leave the space station very slowly, in a few weeks. No residual heat meant no big machinery was used in the last few weeks. This included the engine used for emergency collision avoidance, the systems running the guidance and the life support... no, no one had used this base in some time.

Yet, there it was, a message. Fellaini was running checks on it and it had cleared it. Authentic military space station SOS message. Quite a few ships had been fooled by Reapers emulating SOS messages. Jarvis didn't want to fall for it. He gulped, "Might as well see it." _Couldn't be that bad, could it?_

A man lay near the camera, half blown away, still alive. A woman and a man were desperately trying to close the lead service door, the normal one leaking air. Heated arguments broke out and the camera shook violently. Or was it the room, under attack? A second later there was a brilliant flash of light and the console and the people were no more to be seen, the entire compound severed cleanly off by the arm of a Reaper. Before the reaper could let his laser completely destroy the space station, it was attacked from a ship a kilometer away, large enough to be the clearly seen from the gaping hole even with the arms, or tentacles, of the Reapers blocking most of the view. The video ended as abruptly as it started.

"Moge hun zielen rusten in vrede" Fellaini muttered. _May their souls rest in peace_.There was only one answer and he knew it too.

"Opinion time," Jarvis spoke and smiled grimly. His sister used to laugh when calling for his help. Opinion Time started by his sister used to be fun. They were young and naïve then and all she ever asked him was, "One cookie or two?" Now, every time he called for help, it was a life or death situation. No wonder nobody wanted to grown old. Fellaini sent a private message to the CIO, Chief Intelligence Officer, Olivier Franz (officially XO, NAV & DCA) and Gunnery Officer, Mike "Charlie" Charlton (WEPS, ENG(acting) & OPS). Fellaini stood up and started pacing around, his way of relieving pressure and getting ready for new challenges. Jarvis noticed Fellaini wore the customary captain's outfit, an all-black carbon nanofiber piece. He sported an Afro and a beard, but was neither black nor a dwarf, proving problematic to all those who wished to insult him.

Two minutes later Franz and Charlie arrived together. Franz delivered his usual good afternoon line, "I need more of the central computer's power if my department is to be more efficient! Charlie's department is wasting all the bloody computing power!"

"My name is not Charlie," began Charlie's usual good afternoon line, "and we need the power. You guys don't even do anything worthwhile! Intelligence department, my ass."

"Good afternoon to the both of you," Jarvis spoke in a tone that made it clear to them that he wasn't in the mood for friendly banter. They stopped quarreling and looked at their Commander. Franz spoke first, "I'd say we're screwed."

Charlie snarled, "With intelligence report like that I'm not sure why the Alliance fleet pays him."

Fellaini muttered, "Alliance does not pay us anymore." The room fell into silence. Only the deathly silent hum of the machine carried on, eternally tireless. The Alliance... how the name angered his crew now. What had they done to deserve a life where in two weeks they went from be the saviors of Earth to villainous scums? Franz sighed.

"I'm going to suggest waiting for the Alliance fleet to react. If they decide to pay attention to the space station we will have time to decide on a plan. At the moment our only way out of this hell-hole is guarded by two heavy cruisers. Unless the Human Front show up, we are in no position to do anything."

Charlie sobered up, "Yes, I'd say the same thing too."

"Fellaini?" Jarvis asked.

"What if we agreed to surrender and when they came closer used the Hijacker on them."

The Hijacker. The instrument solely for which _Tesla_ had been refitted. It generated a massive concentrated electric pulse capable for frying any ship's electronic. A weapon so lethal and precise, it demanded a change in the ship's name. The ship had been refitted, after the First Contact War, to make sure any future attacks on Earth, or its colonies, from aliens were contained quickly. _Tesla_'s crew, in their six years of service, managed to make the Hijacker work once, putting out of commission a Reaper.

The Reaper had been using its tentacles after one of the heavy cruisers had destroyed its main laser. The moment the Reaper touched the ship , billions of amperes of current shot through the hull into the Reaper. _Tesla_ systems went offline for a moment and major damage was caused by the tentacle-hull contact. That was early in the war. The ship had been secretly taken away from Earth for emergency repairs. By the time the ship was repaired the war was over. A little later, the crew was escaping the Alliance fleet.

"Two problems," spoke Franz. The ships weren't moving fast enough on the map on the screen, because of its scale, and the world appeared stagnant. "One, we don't know if the thing will work again and since the repairs were rushed we can't be sure _Tesla_ will continue to run after another shot of the Hijacker." This point was good enough to drop the option. But Franz loved humiliating fools.

"Two," Franz carried on, "the Alliance fleet know of the Hijacker. They'll be smart enough to stay the hell away and use kinetic and laser bombardment if we don't surrender. Or they could just ask us to download a little program they'll email us, which will shut down all non-vital, or if they're bored, _all_ systems. The problem here is that the enemy knows us too well. Our capabilities, strengths, weaknesses, everything."

Jarvis though for a moment before deciding, "We'll wait. Hopefully, we'll get out of this mess. If it does get to the point where we have to surrender it'll either be them coming closer for a little shock treatment or us throwing at them everything we got." Jarvis remembered the "We fight or we die" line some reporter said Shepard had spoken. The first time he'd heard that line he couldn't help but laugh. He was in the middle of a firefight when his friend had told him about the reporter and the line and he had laughed, and laughed some more. Shepard speaking such a corny line? He was an officer, not some B-film actor. But as the firefight went on, he realized the great effect such lines had on troops. _Victory or Annihilation. No middle ground._

"Well maybe we won't have to surrender," Fellaini said with a smile. Jarvis looked at the screen and let out a laugh. Finally, the Human Front were here. More importantly, they brought firepower.

"Nice to get out of here," Charlie commented. But, not for the first time, Franz' words broke someone's cocoon of hope. "You forget the space station."


	2. Chapter 2: The Spy Who Wasn't Bond

2 weeks before the attack on Earth. June 1, 2186.

* * *

Stockholm SA Intelligence Compound, Norway.

I observed the other competitors sitting in the room next to me. Six of us in total for our first and last chance to be S7s. S7, the best of best spies, saboteurs, assassins and political operators. Remembering the files on our competitors we had gotten some time back, I recalled that four of them were former T raters, intelligence officer. The bulkiest of us all, a frenchmen Muslim by the name of Al Hassidi, sat beside me, on the left. How exactly does a 6 foot four, 220 pound monster like him manage to blend in with the crowd? He is a T3, internal investigator, if I recall correctly.

The remaining seat in the row is occupied by a black woman, Jennifer Hawhcross. These are all aliases, yes, but there is always something one can learn from them. For example, the short brown guy in front of me, Roman (with emphasis on the 'a'), always uses Gypsy names as his aliases. Man, if I could keep those files on them... Too bad, they were taken away. Alliance Leader wouldn't like it if one of these files ended up in Omega. Bad things happen to S7s who are caught, the first lesson we were given. Well, it was more of a reminder but still.

"Welcome to the test," erupted a loud voice instantly derailing any trains of thoughts any one of us had. The man spoke through the speakers in the room. The voice was a man's, but no doubt had been altered. First things first, get your bearings straight. The test has already begun.

"Each of you will be given a two day head start on the S7s that will be tracking you down. Your objective is simple: don't get caught for two weeks," the last few words were spoken with a tone of sarcasm. Fear mongering tactics that I will not fall into. I'm the best here, and if I fail... I won't be failing that's for sure, worked too hard for this.

"There are a few more things to note. One, each of you will be given a tracking device, the new Inquisitor M2, which will be activated at midnight every night, local time, for two minutes." Wait, what?

"Two, if you get in serious trouble, there will be no one to help you." This making the test as realistic as possible is getting on my nerves.

"Three, each of you will be given a mission datapad that will activated two days from the test starts. The S7s tracking you know neither of the missions nor that you have be given any." This is getting ridiculous. Wasn't there supposed to be just one objective.

The rest of the points were just reminders and tips on how to beat the S7s. All were in the Intelligence Manual so it really didn't matter.

"All here know that one of you here is N6, Special Forces. Got bored, eh?" That would be Hawhcross. "The other non-T rater is, surprisingly, a former D7. Hope you don't blow your cover, Carlos Almeida." Hardy Ha, very funny, prick. There is some giggling but that subsides quickly. Oh, and thanks for using my real name. I'll be laughing at you all when this is over.

"We depart at dawn."

* * *

June 2, 2186. 2345hrs. Rio de Janeiro.

* * *

This is unexpected. Rio de Janeiro is a strange choice for the test, considering Hawhcross did her Special Forces training here. Maybe everyone got their own cities... No, they were on the plane with me. We were all blind folded as the plane landed so we wouldn't know where the others started from. I was driven around for nearly four hours. Nothing in Rio was four bloody hours away! The stupid visor that blocked my vision deactivated. I removed it and placed it along with the other items the S7 test backpack had. At least I don't have to pay for the taxi ride.

"That'll be a hundred credits. Midnight charges, you know." Pricks!

The first order of business was to find a coffee shop, any place with computers around. Rule Two of the Intelligence Manual: Verify all information, regardless of provider. Rule Three: Trust nobody, regardless of the surface allegiance. What this jargon means is that the information given by the loud voice during our test briefing could be false. Maybe there is no tracking device? Maybe there will be no S7s tracking us? No mission? S7s already tracking us? Tracker device always on? S7s know of the mission?

I wasn't given any information of who these S7s were so there is absolutely no one I can trust. Anybody could be S7. That old lady quietly sitting on the bench a hundred feet away? That fat butcher I just walked by? Or the two giggling Federal University of Rio de Janeiro students enjoying coffee near the old lady? Great, paranoia is what I need right now...

I walk into the coffee shop, glaring at the two student. They look at weird old me and giggle some more. I need to find a computer before midnight. I order coffee at sit near a businessman wearing those new omnitools devices. He is furiously typing on it.

Even though Brazil is on the Systems Alliance main member list, it hasn't grown out of the third world tag. Poor people still roam the street, unaware of space ships and aliens and all that jazz (well, they know of space ships and aliens and all that jazz but don't give the slightest shizz about it). And no politician in his right mind would allow the poor a better life. After all, what's better than a vote bank of idiots? Luckily for me, the idiot flock will be crucial for my success as well. Rule 7: Never waste a resource, regardless of availability.

Just as the clock strikes twelve on my watch (no omnitool provided... sigh), people around me start having technical difficulties. I merely smile at their momentary inconvenience. It is the tracking device, the Inquisitor. Being a bomb defusal specialist has its perks. (D6 training was basically turning all easily accessible equipment into deadly weapons. Hell, passing D6 required the student to create his own weapon/booby trap of considerable destruction from anything found in a house and an IT office room. My trap, a exploding omnitool that required basic electronic knowledge, earned me a lot of "You're messed up in the head" comments from my colleagues. Fun times...) While on the plane I had asked one of the hostesses to lend me her omni-tool. Two minutes later, the Inquisitor had been modified. Nothing illegal, just increased its output signal strength. When activated, the stronger signal interferes with other instruments nearby.

Two minutes later, the interference stopped. So the first part of the information was correct. But just because it activated at the correct time, this time, doesn't mean it will do so again. It could activate at random time next time. So I'll need something to monitor the tracker. Now that the first thing was over, I feel better. I look at the night lights. No time to explore this beautiful city... No time for complacency. What is my overall plan? Simple. Find the S7s before they find me.

* * *

June 4, 2186. Rio de Janeiro. 0412 hrs.

* * *

Roman walked through the back alleys, admiring the night lights. He wondered where the others where. Probably caught. Some men were still out, under the lights, talking in hushed tones. They looked at him with suspicion but he paid no attention. Rule 12 of the Intelligence Manual: No eye contact at night, regardless of feelings of superiority. Whoever created the rules was one smug bastard, Ramon thought.

"Fucking gypsy!" shouted one of the drunk men. The others laughed. Get out of here quickly, thought Ramon as he entered a unlit back alley.

"Roman, a pleasure to meet you," a woman spoke from the dark.

* * *

June 4, 2186. Rio de Janeiro. 0417 hrs.

* * *

The large man looked at the dead body. Working in a morgue wasn't the best option. It kept out of sight, but there was a slight problem. He looked at the dead body on the table; it had just arrived. _May God rest your soul in peace._

A voice disturbed his prayer, "Rule 11: Never be static, regardless of apparent safety provided."_ Damn! The stupid tracking device! I forgot about it!_

"Should've stuck to interrogations, Al Hassidi."

* * *

June 4, 2186. Rio de Janeiro. 0424 hrs.

* * *

The S7 officer smiled at the woman that had just walked past him. It was early morning and two of the test giver had already been caught. _What a great year for us. This is the easiest job I've done in my life._ The woman sat down at a table in the 24x7 coffee shop. _These kiddos are fools! They leave so many tracks. If this continues, this year will be the first time no one qualifies. Kid these days just don't have what it takes._

The woman sipped her coffee calmly. _She isn't even looking around! And why is she taking part? She is woman. Doesn't she know what happens to women spies that get caught? Luckily, she won't become a spy anytime this life._ The man smiled as the waiter offered him the menu. He was starving but the woman, Hawhcross, hadn't ordered anything to eat so in all likelyhood, she would move from here in a few minutes. _What a waste it would be if I ordered food and she left. What if I just tell here that she has been caught? Hmmm, porkchops..._

The woman stood up, went to the counter and paid her bill. She then made her way out without looking at him. _Good, she doesn't know._ She was walking calmly and sometimes even whistled. _What arrogance! Wait till you fail!_ She turned into a side street and he smiled. He would corner her there, and watch as her smugness went away. He turned into the side street-

Crack!

The woman broke his nose with a clean punch, knocking him out. She dragged him across the road and dropped him across a dustbin. _There, now everyone should think you are a hobo. Should keep you safe._ The woman took all his important belongings, passport, credits, omnitool. The woman then removed a almost empty bottle of cheap liquor she'd bought that afternoon, sprinkled the last drops on his face and kept the bottle next to him. She removed a small post-it from her bag and stuck it on his chest. It had the number '10' scrawled on it.

Rule 10: Never underestimate your opponent, regardless of on-paper superiority.

* * *

June 4, 2186. Rio de Janeiro. 0444 hrs.

* * *

The bastards did lie about something after all. The tracker beeped, just for a microsecond, every four hours. I knew they wouldn't play fair. I changed the tracker's output signal, so I wasn't exactly holier than híe. How much of an advantage do they want?

My counter-attack plan is going well. Getting the omni-tool was a blessing, that too military grade. My Ordinance Disposal Technical Corp issued omni-tool is miles ahead. It is also classifield Alliance tech. I'm not sure shops keep, or know of, classified tech. I haven't found out who is assigned to me yet. Hopefully my plan will smoke him or her out. There was definitely nobody behind me the first two days. Great, there I go, being overconfident. These are S7s who are after you, Carlos, not some lowlife mercenary.

I'm in Rocinha at the moment. It is the largest favela, slum, in Rio. Its easy to hide here. Its also easy for your enemies to hide here, and for you to get stabbed, robbed, gunned down here. There is no safe place in the world of spies and crime, in my world. There's only dangerous and very dangerous. I wave at my new found friends (temporary unstable allegiance) and walk to them. Shanty or no shanty, big cities never sleep. In Rocinha, you sleep in the morning and enjoy the cool night winds.

"Amigo, porque esta merda?" the bald one pointed to the cheap liqour in his hands. Not accepting would be suspicious so I take the bottle, take a swig and give it back. Ugh, the taste is awful. I seemed to have betrayed my feelings about the drink as he laughs. "Você bebe o que você, amigo." You drink what you get, friend.

"True. But I don't have a nagging wife to make shit taste better," I reply in English and he laughs again.

They don't mind me speaking in English. I speak in English, you reply in Portuguese, we're both comfortable. Almost everyone in Rocinha knows English, some even consider it their first language over Portuguese, so I don't seem out of place. Being dark skinned helps too.

"So, Roberto," the bald man turned towards the fat kid, "I heard you met a senora today."

The kid blushed, "Oh, she was one looker. Hourglass figure, not afraid to flaunt, and white too. Never seen her in these parts before. She bought liquor from Muriel's shop. He's probably telling everyone how she's is next true love." That last comment earned a laugh from everyone. I laughed too just to look interested.

"So, Alduin, uhm. I still can't believe your name is Alduin. What a weird name," the bald man, Gervinho, said to me. Yes, the name is very rare. That means, they will remember me better. Why would I want that? Laying a straight line for my tracker to me. My teachers would kill me if I did that in a real mission. This is just a test which means the SAIS headquarters won't waste more than one S7 for each student taking the test. Find out who the tracker is, take him or her out. Profit.

"My mother my father ten sons. I guess they ran out of names." Another bout of laughter. Man, they're loving me. The datapad I had got initially alerted me that I recieved a message. Excusing myself, I check it out.

To: Carlos Almeida  
From: SAIS  
Subject: Mission Statement.  
Message: Infiltrate the Systems Alliance Medical Office in Leblon and acquire datapad ID: 411-RHJ-1 from the Secreteriat's office.

Forcing me into the open, eh?

* * *

June 4th SAIS Command, Stockholm. 1143 hrs.

* * *

"Report," a dark haired man barked.

"Roman and Al Hassidi are out. Hawhcross knocked out her tracker. We're sending both Roman's and Al Hassidi's tracker after her. Carlos, as expected, did increase the signal output and possibly knows of the 4 hour signal time gap. So does Davids."

"And Red?"

"I'm sorry sir but we have no idea where she is or what she is doing. It's like she doesn't exist anymore."

"She removed her tracking device?"

"Again, unknown. Our agent hasn't been able to get to her or the tracking device."

"Has she started on her mission yet?"

"No. We've asked the tracker to stay near her mission objective and ignore her for the time being. Should we send Roman's or Al Hassidi's tracker towards her?"

"Not now. There are twelve more days. We'll catch them. Tell the trackers to go easy on them. I don't want all of them back tomorrow. Makes us look bad."

* * *

Author's Note:

* * *

1. Shepard makes her first appearance in the fourth chapter. Also next chapter contains basic information on the AU changes. :)

2. Enjoy and please Review.


	3. Chapter 3: Behind Friendly Lines

To: Headquarters, Systems Alliance.

From: Secretary, Alliance Fleet.

Date: June 28, 2186

Subject: Arrest of Captain David Edward Anderson, I5 (ex-N7). Personal Number: DE-87154-P

Message:

First of all, we offer our utmost sympathies for you those who you have lost. We have beaten the Reaper and restored peace. This victory, achieved here on Earth, will allows us more leverage on the council. However, as much as I would like to discuss the future, we live in the present.

After the Catalyst incident, we discovered Captain David Edward Anderson next to the owner of the biotech giant Cerberus, aliased Jack Harper. Jack Harper was dead at the time of first contact. Captain David Edward Anderson suffered heavy blood loss but he survives.

Unfortunately for us, there have been an increasing number of cults forming in the recent few days, growing at an alarming rate. A lot of these cults worship either Commander Ellis Gordon Shepherd or Anderson, some both. Commander Ellis Gordon Shepherd is MIA, presumed dead.

We fear Anderson may use the cults to extort money and power. While some may consider these fear baseless, there are enough of us who have this fear. And so, Captain David Edward Anderson will be kept under house arrest for an indefinite amount of time. We will publish a story announcing his heroic death, build a memorial and wait until all this dies down before deciding further on Captain David Edward Anderson's future. Detailed plans will be forwarded within the day.

Thanking you,

The Secretary,

Ralph McCleary.

* * *

June 16, 2186. Near M25, London. 1121hrs.

Prince George didn't expect this. Queen Elizabeth couldn't fathom this. Lord Erwin didn't understand this. Lady Bell didn't scream. Lord Lowe didn't cry. How could they? They were dead. God rest their souls. And the souls of the millions otherwise that died in the last two days. They were lucky. They died quickly.

"Get down!" shouted Faye White at the other guards. The brilliant white light shut down her optic augment temporarily as she fell. She imagined her head splitting, headache. There was a moment before the firefight continued. Her neural implant restarted the optic implant and her vision returned. She would need to get the implant recalibrated but now wasn't the time.

"Bailey, report, now!" she shouted again. She was firing blindly at the hordes rushing toward her squad's location. The gun fell silent. _Damn! It's either overheating or lack of clips!_

The man she screamed at was slowly getting back out of his initial shock. The blow had come out of nowhere. One moment, they were fighting inferior critters with simple equipment; the next, they are targets of heavy rpg fire. Bailey blindly fired a round into the critter. No sound. No hit.

"Bailey! Stop wasting ammo!" shouted Faye. The blast had shaken her crew into inaction, and stirred her into action. She removed a flash grenade from her backpack and threw it towards the critters after shouting, "Delta Charlie!" _Flash Grenade!_ The large hangar they were in light up. From the side of her cover she noticed a large woman like creature near the base of the only plane in the hangar, thirty yards away. _The fuck is that?! _The creature was surrounded by a number of the critters that she and her squad had been fighting. _It's going to be a bitch to fight. _Fighting the critters had been tiring. They killed five of them and another five sprang up. Where these things really human? The British Internal Guard, BIG, were going to brief her on that. The BIG HQ building was rubble before she reached it.

"Adryan is seriously injured. Carbon says he can reach him but he will need cover fire. The rest are okay." Bailey muttered. Faye noticed the large creature walking slowly towards Adryan, flanked by the critters. He was out in open, and unable to move. He was holding his gun and waiting. Waiting because his arm had been shot and he would only be able to take one shot, close range, before his arm gave way. "Ma'am, Adryan is running out of time! Carbon wants to help him!" Carbon and Adryan, best of buddies. He wanted to help him. Hell, everyone in the squad wanted to save him. Seeing so many death didn't desensitize them, it brought them closer. _He's going to do it._

"Ma'am!" Bailey shouted again. The creature slowly inched towards Adryan, now a few feet away. The critter around her didn't do anything. No one expect Adryan was in their line of sight. This was the perfect time. Adryan would distract them long enough for Faye and the squad to get away. She needed Carbon to act so she could find out if her deduction was correct.

"Bastards!" shouted Carbon. He ran out of his cover and started firing indiscriminately. The big creature turned towards him just as the critter stumbled out of inaction. _Now!_ Faye thought and covered her eyes. Even with her palm shielding her eyes she could feel the intensity of the light. She looked up at the creature keeping her hands close to her eyes. Just as she had thought, it had been the creature who performed the brilliant light magic trick. The critter closest to the creature had fallen down. Carbon and Adryan were screaming in pain but not for long. The remaining critters finished them both off. _Now._

She stood and shouted, "Take this, you fuckers!" She released the auto lock on her Machine Gun and fired. It lasted only five seconds, but God did those five seconds pumped adrenaline in her blood! She kept screaming and hurling abuses at them as the creature and some of the critters fell down from the sheer of volume of bullets flying at them. Faye's squad started firing as well. In five seconds, they went from dejected to hungry for more destruction, more death. That is what war, and victory, does to soldiers.

"Those fuckers are all going to die!" roared Bailey as he shot as the large dead creature. "Stop!" shouted Faye. Bailey relunctantly did so. "Ma'am, they deserve nothing better. Bastards killed Adryan and Carbon. Adryan was lying on the floor injured!"

"Bailey, those fucks aren't exactly humans. They don't honor the code of war. However, Adryan's and Carbon's death haven't gone to waste. We can now retreat and plan ahead."

"But, ma'am, we won! Why don't we go on the aggressive right now?"

"That's your adrenaline speaking. Also, this time they were careless and distracted. They were more interested in the injured than us. Now they know we ain't going to take them lying down! They will be ready the next time. And so will we."

Bailey looked the creature once again. The four other surviving member, John, Maine, Samantha and Alexa looked at it too. They were all tired, fighting for the last two days. John was still angry. Faye knew she was a loose cannon, much like Alexa. They were both young and brash but luckily hadn't made a crucial mistake. Maine was the oldest and the most sane, which was amazing considering the number of skirmishes and battles he had taken part it.

"Leave it, Bailey. Every bullet you waste on it is a bullet not travelling towards the head of a critter who is alive."

Bailey gave her a smile and helped Maine and Samantha as they searched the corpses for stuff they could loot. "Were they really human?" asked John as nudged the large dead creature with his legs while pointing his gun at it. "It's dead," said Maine as he removed the magazine from one of the critters. The critters used to be human, now they were husks. Formed by what Maine and his friends called "dragon's teeth", spikes on which humans and other organics were impaled. The spikes changed the corpses in these critters. Very aggressive but lacking the creativity and inginuety, just like movie zombies did. He remembered his grandfather's stories about his own grandfather being a fan of some videogame in which they had to shoot waves of zombies and how he dreamt of being one of the supersoldier. _I'm living the dream, old guy, and I'll gladly swap places with you._

"Okay, Bailey, the Reapers are concentrating on London and other crowded places around the world. So we'll be considerably safe when get the hell out of this city. You SAS guys have a lot of safe houses. Lead us to one which is on the other the M25."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Faye looked at the hangar that surrounded them. One lonely plane stood in the middle. Some of the roof had been lasered away by the Reaper. Now that the hangar was deathly quiet, her ears focused on the distant rumbling of the lasers. _Relentless bastards. _"These crates, Maine, you find anything in them?"

"Nothing we can use, Ma'am. Aeroplane parts. We may find repair tools on the second floor but," he pointed at the place where the stair case had been destroyed. Someone had fought here long before they had come here. "This hangar is isolated and large. Bad for us owing our numerical inferiority. Let's go." _These bastards are going to die by my hands._

* * *

June 16, 2186, Brentfordshire, 5 miles from London. 1351 hrs.

The house was nice, five bedrooms, a large hall and spacious kitchen. None of the six could afford the house. It was majestic.

"SAS could afford the smallest house on the block. What has it come to... Sigh..." Bailey ignored Alexa's sarcasm as he plopped down his gear and let out a heavy sigh.

"We should be safe till London falls. It feels so funny when I say that, when London falls. A week ago, people would have thrown me in looney house if I'd say that," remarked John.

"I'm more surprised they didn't put you in the looney house regardless," said a smiling Samantha as she checked the fridge.

"Ya, well, I guess when they've had their hands full since they admitted you," replied John without missing a beat. "Any beer in there?"

"Beer, beer and some more beer. There's enough here for a whole army," Samantha looked at Bailey who made his 'I'm innocent' face. "Bailey, why did you choose this safe house?"

"It's, um, closeby, in case we need to get back quickly."

"Nothing related to all this beer?" Samantha asked while helping herself to a can. She handed one to John as he looked at the open fridge. "Damn, Bailey, no wonder they couldn't afford the best house. This must have cost a fortune."

Faye entered the house after she had done all her necessary checks. "Want a beer?" asked John.

"Not now. Also, everybody, I'm ordering you all to go to sleep in the basement."

A collective groan and two minutes later, all five of her squad left for the basement. She glanced at her watch. _Two. Anytime now._ She opened the fridge and waded through all the beer to find a packet of easy-to-cook fish and chips. As much as she hated fish and chips, food was food. She had barely touched anything in two days.

Even the call came she had finished her lunch. "Cani here. Who's speaking?" she replied.

"We need to talk." A man's voice answered.

"I need to sleep. Got any pillows?" _Got any information?_

"Yes."

She ended the call and sighed. She wanted to sleep but she had to call the man again. Se picked up the house keys, locked the house and left. The streets were all quite. All but one old man had left for makeshift hiding houses. The old man's house was two houses to the left of theirs. He was sitting outside and had his shotgun with him. _Like he's going to able to fire that thing. It would be a better off included in our arsenal._ She walked passed the old man who waved at her. She waved back and hurried on to the last house in the street.

"There will be widespread looting. Stay safe and away from crowded areas. The government will take care of them," every reporter alive, every one with a camera, radio station, working internet connection said these very words. Every minute of every hours, the same thing was looped. Faye laughed. _Looting? Since when did those pussies get the balls to loot while Reaper were murdering everyone's ass?_

The house was empty, of course. She went inside and searched the rooms. Finally, she found a vidcon attached to the wall in the kitchen. She dialed a number and waited while it looped through many relays around the world, trying to set a course for a vidcon twenty miles south of her.

"Darling! Are you safe!" A trembling voice said, its acting not so good. _Is the phone secure?_

"No." _No, the phone isn't secure_.

Two minutes later a voice cracked through, "Young lady. Always a pleasure." It was the Prime Minister of UK, Gordon Chemsfield. The old man was the PM who news media openly proclaimed as the 'Last Honest Man in London'.

"Mister Prime Minister, I'm sure you're very safe in that bunker of yours while million of Britishers die."

"Good afternoon to you too. I'm sure you'll understand a headless chicken is more dead than a featherless one."

"I don't think soldiers will like an old guy comparing them to feathers. What next? No please, don't compare soldiers to flower. You compare them with flowers and they'll flip out." She heard coarse laughter.

"Young lady, you are a pleasure to talk to. Everyone here misses you," he stopped speaking for a moment and then started laughing again, "Or not."

"My job was to protect you, not laugh at crap and crappy jokes."

"True enough... It seems the technicians are restless. Let us talk pleasantries the next time we meet. Are you outside London?"

"Yes."

"Well then you may not have noticed that we slayed three Reapers in the last five hours. What do you think about that?" The Prime Minister's voice serious mid sentence startling Faye. He always did that.

"Impressive. Also, interesting. Zero kills in two days, three in five hours. The soldiers are destroying Reapers now that they are tired? I'd say something's wrong."

"The picture is missing a word; weakness."

"You found a weakness?!"

"Yes." The PM had lingered the 'yes' for too long.

"All good things have a but."

"You are good detective, young lady," the PM said and smiled. The seriousness left as quickly as it came. It resurfaced again. "The problem is that the weakness only applies to maybe five Reapers."

"What? Aren't they all identical?"

"No. It seemed all those who looked at enough Reapers to make this deduction kept dying. I wonder why. The only way we found out about it when two of the crews failed to successfully use the weakness."

"Must have been painful for them. Their boss assuring them that it will work. And then? Surprise motherfucker!"

"Some die so other may live." Faye remembered Carbon and Adryan. "Using high power sniper scopes and staying the hell away, we found that Reapers weren't clones. Turns out, a lot of things influenced their design. A report from Commander.. uh, someone said that they were making a human Reaper. So maybe all the Reapers are influenced by previous cycles." _Commander Shepherd... That stupid bitch. Doesn't stop screwing with me._

"You're on thin ice, Prime Minister."

"My apologies. In any case, I must leave." The voice changed and the one from before spoke again, "Your squad needs manpower revitalization. We'll send you someone from here."

"I'm not a bloody squad leader! I need to be there protecting the Prime Minister. That's my job!" The line was dead. _Wanker!_

* * *

17 June, 2186. 0101 hrs. Brentfordshire.

"Wake up, Faye. Time to rise and shine," John spoke quietly, barely a whisper. Faye opened her eye and saw him staring at her with large blue eyes and the usual smirk. "Do you want breakfast in bed?"

"Do you want to end up dead?" she asked as she lifted herself off the couch. The television, which had been on mute started blaring again. It was the sports channel. They were showing an old football match where England had won. "Nice attempts at infusing citizens with patriotism. Unfortunate no one except us is watching this. Nor do Reapers play football," Samantha said.

"I'll be right back," Faye said and headed to the bathroom. She came back fifteen minutes later. It was then she noticed the old man and two new guys sitting near the couch. "And you are?" she asked them.

It was John who answered, "Old man Murray is cool. Can't let a old man with a rocking shotgun alone, can you? As for these two, I don't know. They decided to rob this house. We're cool now though."

One of those two replied without removing his eyes from the telly, "We are not thieves. We were sent here by the old man." He was referring to the PM.

"I'm William and he's Nathan," the other one said. Nathan had curly hair and was so lean Faye would look fat next to him. William was better built. He had orange hair on top which gradually turned red as they reached his neck. Faye sighed and sat down on the couch between Samantha and Alexa. They smiled at her and she smiled back. The tiredness had all but gone. Actually looking at the calm faces of her squad, and of old Murray, she wondered if the war was over.

"Maine, tell Faye what you told us. Cool story," John spoke. Faye looked outside the window and saw that all houses she could see had their lights turned on. _These bastards wanted to watch the telly so bad that they switched all the lights in other houses on to confuse enemies? Or did the neighbours forget to turn the lights off?_ Faye smiled to herself. Instead of wondering her next course of action, she was wondering what shenanigans they had done.

"I'm glad you woke up. We will need to move in an hour," William said, "We saw some husks, turian, asari and human, on their way here. Very slow, searching every house." Faye looked at him in surprise. _I knew all this was too calm! _She spoke, "And none of you bother to tell me until this late? You all are sitting here, getting your asses drunk," she said angrily pointing at the beer cans near John, "While those critters make their way here?"

"Hey no worries. This is a safe house. Maine, tell her your story," said John. Faye looked at John. _That bastard is affecting everyone's willingness to fight!_

"It isn't a story, John. It's a theory on the Reapers." Faye turned her head to Maine. His bald shaven head glistened with sweat. His nose was longer than normal but no one talked about. No one felt the need to get to know Maine's bad side. She felt confident she could beat him, but he hadn't shown enough of his hand-to-hand skills making the deduction of his skill level difficult. "Go on," she spoke.

"William said that Reapers weren't all alike. He had a theory that Reapers resemble many species, most likely all of which they had destroyed. Sick fetish, I must say. But I wonder. Let's say the Reapers were created by some entity, let's call him Creator. The first Reapers looked like them. Now the Creators are dead, probably killed by the Reapers. The next cycle came and were wiped out. The Reapers created new Reapers that looked like these new creatures. They looked different and the point I want to make is that perhaps from the inside they are different too."

"Different as in they have emotions?" asked John as cheered on the English strikers. Maine ignored the comment and carried on, "With intelligence, artificial or natural, comes its side effects, laws of evolution and feelings of superiority among individual. I think the Reapers that were not created by the creators are not as smart as the original Reapers themselves."

"My father once told me the difference between social animals and herd animals. Social animals have a clear structure, a clear order of who should be first to mate. Herd animals have a clear objective, a clear code which tell what each animal must do to help the herd. For social creature, each animal is important to some degree and for herd animals, the collective is more important. I ask you, Maine, do Reapers have a clear objective or a clear order and structure?" Alexa spoke. John did mock 'Oh my god, so intelligent' which earned him a scorn.

"And that is the problem. I could not get past that for a while. Would Reapers really jeopardize their own mission?"

"Maybe their feeling of superiority reached far enough for them to assume no one could challenge them."

"Then why did they need so many copies? They could have just stored the data in their massive heads. Even if they wanted souvenirs, they should have just made one. They clearly wanted to bulk up their army."

"So what is the solution?" John asked him.

Maine smiled, "The answer lies in the fact that we never unlocked the secrets of the brain. We now how it works, but why does it work? Why the neurons do the thing they do? You can say because of evolution but that answer will not survive a science conference. The reason why don't know why things happen the way things happen is because we cannot fathom it. I think the Reapers cannot understand why they work, why they do what they do. They may be able to read the code but if they don't understand it, they can't replicate it. It's similar to how a cracker cracks a software. If he doesn't know what each part of the code is doing, he may screw up the program."

John looked imporessed but Faye didn't know whether he was acting or not. She was impressed. Though she will leave all the whys to the scientist and concentrate on killing them. William spoke, "There is a way we can find it out."

"Ask the Geths." Maine completed the sentence to the sounds of explosion erupting from the first house on the street. "They're here, and they're dead," announced John.

"We better get moving then," said Faye and stood up. Maine's theory still revolved in her head. The Reaper couldn't understand why they did what they did? _"I don't know why I did that." The most convinient answer_.

"Bailey, where next?" she asked. Bailey pondered for a moment but before he could answer, Faye's omni tool rang. "Get here fast!" rang out the PM's voice. Faye looked at her crew. They knew where they were headed. "Well then, resting was nice. Let's get back to fun times."

* * *

June 17, 2186. Underground, near the House of Lords. 0234 hrs.

"Stupid piece of crap!" shouted Williams. The tunnel ahead was gone, their way was buried under rubble. "We're so fucking underground. How'd this happen?" They had travelled through this route themselves. "Where's the way to the surface?" asked Samantha as they jumped out of the jeep. Bailey helped old man Murray out. _What's he doing with us? Stupid liability, _thought Faye. The group had grown out of hand. She had no experience in handling so many people. Her job had been protecting the Prime Minister and that too she reported to another X7, the elite N7s (yes, elite among the elite) who keep the big shots from getting shot.

Murray looked at Faye and noticed her irritation before she could hide it. "You have a problem, miss?"

"Yes, you are old and I don't want to compromise the entire squad's safety." John smiled as if he had been anticipating this.

"Miss, I was in the Secret Service. I brought down more mob bosses than you've had periods."

"You can't get out of the van!" she said angrily. _You arrogant bastard!_

"Last time I heard, nobody pulled triggers using their knees. Getting shot does that to knees."

"There's always augments," muttered Bailey.

"Better organic than half machine," he pointed the shotgun at Faye's eyes. She stood there fearing she might kill him if he got on her nerves. But she noticed he held the shotgun like a professional, completely stable. The man wasn't joking. She calmed down. "Whatever," she said and followed William to the surface point. Behind her, John was high fiving Murray.

* * *

June 17, 2186. The Bunker. 0415hrs.

Silent. Too silent. The inbuilt night vision in her eyes revealed nothing. Silent. Too silent. She motioned her crew all of whom had full light armor suits on except Nathan. He say he had kevlar protection underneath his shirt which made John point at his body and laugh for a few moments. That was an hour ago; now there was just silence.

They crept across the corridor leading to the first door. William looked at the door. It was working but someone had changed the password since they had left. He hacked the door and the light went green. He stepped aside for Faye who was still checking the door. There was a slight dent on it which was annoying her. The dent was towards them; something had hit it from inside. _Fifteen feet thick door with a dent on it... Move with caution._

She signalled them. _Something's wrong_. They readied the weapon and entered.

"Holy moly," muttered John. There were dead bodies strewn across like pizza boxes in a college goer's room. There wasn't one human alive in the room. There wasn't one complete dead human in the room. It looked like a flea market with each shop selling different body parts. Then they noticed it. Large and foul smelling (was the odor it's own or the blood's?), it was eating a limb in the corner. Faye aimed her gun. The CE-71, deadliest semi-machine gun, burst out a second of fire, twenty rounds. The beast cried out and looked at them. It's eyes were bloodshot, hungry for carnage and death. More humans equalled fun for it. It let out a roar and charged.

"Dodge!" cried Alexa. The warning wasn't needed. They all got out of the way. Murray barely managed to get away, even after being tackled by John. _What? John is helping Murray? Maybe Murray isn't useless. I'll need to make sure they stay together, _thought Faye as he turned towards the large creature and shouted, "Feel the wraith!" She let the gun rip. Samantha and Bailey joined in.

The creature roared once more. But however strong it was, with three guns pumping all their rounds into it, it wasn't going to last. The monster fell down. Samantha had concentrated her shot on its knees. "The fucking thing is still alive!" shouted Bailey as he reloaded. John emptied the clip of his pistol into the creature's head. Finally, the creature moved no more.

"Krogan?" he asked.

"Krogan," Samantha replied.

"We have a problem," said Murray. "It was injured before we attacked it."

"Yes," said Faye in her 'It's obvious' voice.

"These people must have fought back. But, I don't see any bullet marks on the three sides of the room we didn't shoot at." They had shot at him when he had charged and hit the wall next to the door. There were bullet marks on that wall but none anywhere else. "These people died without a fight," concluded John.

"This is what made the dent the door. With that much force in its charge, I'm amazed we don't see any mashed dead bodies. Crudely cut dead bodies are all I see here," said Maine. William and Nathan were busy searching for any equipment they could use. The group didn't have any repair tools.

"What are you suggesting? Someone kept the krogan husk here?" asked Alexa.

"It surely didn't cause the mayhem here. Look at the computers and the wall here. Except for the dent on the wall, it dudn't charge any other time. Maybe, even the dent wasn't made by it. I think it wouldn't have attacked us if ma'am hadn't unloaded her clip on it."

"They killed Adryan when he was injured," spoke Faye. She was loosing her cool. She needed to get to PM quickly. This crew business was stupid. "Now suddenly they won't be interested in fully armored humans? That was a krogan husk, a more aggressive creature created out of an already aggressive creature."

Maine nodded, "Yes, you are right."

"Let's move to the inner chambers," she said turning towards a group of soldiers. "You won't be going any further," said a soft voice. The soldiers were decked out in heavy suits and had their gun trained at her group. _Great._


	4. Chapter 4: The Walking Dead

June 22, 2186. Aboard the Crucible.

"Quarians?!" shouted Shepard.

"Why are you surprised?" asked the child.

"Quarians?! Really?!" Did she really fight Saren, the Council, the madness in her head, the Illusive Man and everything else for this answer?

"Don't be so surprised. This answer was in your head. We are merely telling you what you're subconscious is thinking."

"Don't put this bullshit on me."

"Why don't you believe us? We searched your mind and merely made the connections for you. Look at us, we have taken the shape of a child from your nightmares. Still you don't believe?" The child from her nightmare. Who was that child? She hadn't seen her before the dreams, before the day the Reapers attacked. She didn't remind her of anybody. Was he even real?

"I cannot be expected to believe this."

"You know we are right. The proof is all around you."

"Like what?"

"The biggest one is us. Do you believe that all the alien species created the Crucible without knowing what this machine does? They just found the blueprint, built on it and then were wiped out. But the blueprints conveniently survived?"

"The Protheans created the blueprints. A lot of their legacy has survived."

"Do you even believe what you are saying? The Prothean couldn't have built it. The Crucible combines with the Citadel, with us. We run on the same software. To combine the Protheans must have known how the Citadel worked, the code it ran."

"But then, they would have figured out about the Reaper IFF."

"Yes, which they didn't. We know that because they are dead. So they don't know how the Citadel works. They couldn't have developed the Crucible."

"How do the Quarians fit in this?"

"One word, Geth."

"You're saying you think the Quarians built the Reapers because they know how to make AI? Unfortunately, the Geth were created because of an accident."

"Accidently created an AI. Are you willing to believe that the Quarians can accidently create AI? Salarians are smart. Where is their AI? Where is the news article that says Salarians figured out how the Geths work?"

"But if they couldn't control the Reapers, why did they create the Geth?"

"The smaller size was the result of that dilemma. They thought it would be easily controllable."

"So you're saying that they can create AI but cannot control them?"

"For a hundred years, humans could recreate nuclear fusion but could not control it."

"Still doesn't answer why the Geth were created?"

"The Crucible."

"What?"

"They had finally completed the Crucible. They could destroy the Reapers. So they thought to themselves, 'Now that we can defeat the Reapers, let us figure how out how to control AI.'"

"That's a stupid reason."

"We only have information that is present in your brain. We can only make so many connections with it. Access to a knowladge bank would help us." There was silence. "Tell us, Commander Shepard, why do the Quarians wear body suits?"

"Because they have been living in clean environments for so long that their immunity has suffered."

"A few questions for you. One, does evolution work so fast that in just a few hundred years, their bodies changed enough to affect their immunity? Two, weren't they expecting to win the war against the Geth? So shouldn't they made sure they would remain compatible with their home world's environment? Three, surely there were germs in their bodies at the time they left their home planet. So, these germs just died out? They didn't multiply and fill the air surrounding the Quarians? Four, again about evolution. Shouldn't the Quarians whose body kept up their immunities survive? Five, again evolution. Why do the humans have an appendix? Haven't they been useless for many years?"

Shepard said nothing. No, she wouldn't believe the Quarians created the Reapers. That was nonsense.

"Commander, we wish to ask you. Why do Quarian masks not reveal their faces?"

Shepard did not want to think. She was tired. Enough of this nonsense had gone on. She just wanted to close her eyes and forget about everything.

"Another question. When you visited the Quarian Fleet, did you notice how close the judge's room was to the exit. Shouldn't the place where important decisions are made be much further inside? Commander Shepard? Commander Shepard, are you tired? It's okay. We think you deserve death. You have gone through things no other organic could. Your willingness to fight everything and everyone to save people who laugh at you behind your back is commendable. However, you have come this far and have to finish what was started many years. Before you, there are three choices. Reading your mind I know what you'll choose."

Shepard looked at the child. His face was blank. No emotions. Just, blank. She sighed. She was going mad. She didn't want this responsibility. No one wanted to be responsible for billions of humans and aliens. She felt their eyes looking at her with epectations. She heard Joker's jokes, Garrus' laughter, Miranda's arguments, Jack's abuses, Mordin's singing. She felt Udina's backstabbing, Anderson's fatherly love, Hackett's commanding voice. "What are my choices?"

"Control, Synthesis and Destroy." The kid explained how the choices worked and what they did. There it was, the final choice.

"Go on, Commander Shepard. Decide the fates of billions. Only you came this far. Don't falter now. Grab fate by its collar and yank it to where you wish it to go."

Slowly she moved. Behind her, the child muttered, his voice too low for her to hear, "Funny how the Reapers aren't attacking the Citadel. Didn't they build it? So shouldn't they have destroyed it when they discovered what we were doing? They could have built a new one. Or could they have?" Silence... The child spoke again, much louder, "Control. Just as we thought. Goodbye, Ellis."

As she touched the controls her mind reeled from the energy flowing trough her. She began seeing visions. From the recess came back a memory she had locked away. She had been looking at her mother's possessions. The kind policeman was consoling her as she rummaged through them. There it was. A photo. She smiled. Her final thoughts were, "Goodbye, brother."

* * *

August 6, 2186. Aboard _Tesla_.

"Say, Franz, what are they doing?" asked Fellaini. The three light cruisers had stopped moving towards them and had changed their trajectory to the space station. "Those bastards are thinking of saving people, are they?"

"There is no one alive on that space station. I think they are heading for the planet it's orbiting, Shanxi."

"Isn't that the first colony that went dark during the First Constact War?" asked Fellaini. He brought up info stream containing all the planet names. Yes, Shanxi was the first planet to be destroyed in the First Contact War.

"No, this planet was colonized after the war. The Chinese Government decided to call this planet Shi Xian as a tribute to those who died back at the original Shanxi," Franz replied. He looked at Jarvis and asked, "What now, Commander. Looks like we aren't of any interest to them. The Human Front has destroyed their heavy cruisers. I think we should head back."

"No, we must investigate the signal," spoke Charlie. For Jarvis, there were bigger questions. How was a message sent from a defunct space station? How was a space station unused from before the Reaper War destroyed by a Reaper? Did the Alliance fleet notice something he hadn't. The planet was the key. Or was it? The Alliance Fleet cruisers weren't hiding their trajectory towards the planet. Were they heading towards the planet? Or were they going to change their vector towards the space station midway through the journey?

"Let us get out of their way. Change course but make sure that if they start to follow us we enough speed to get away."

"Yes," replied Fellaini.

Over the course of the next hour, the _Tesla_ moved away from the pursuing cruisers. The Human Front had destroyed the remaining Alliance presence. They sat at the Mass Relay, guarding it. "Message Incoming," said Fellaini. _It's about time_, Jarvis thought. The video started.

"Commander Jarvis, we come in peace," the man spoke, clearly in a good mood. His green eyes sparkled, mesmerizing Jarvis. _Why do all terrorists have beautiful eyes?_ he wondered as the man continued, "My apologies for the late message. One of the heavy cruisers destroyed our comm system. We had to install a new one. In any case, I notice that the Alliance Fleet are, at the moment, uninterested in you. I will suggest you move out of their way and head towards us."

"As much as we hate the Alliance Fleet, we will not abandon the people. We will be investigating the message which you have surely seen. If you are truly the Human Front, I'm sure you will glad to help us," replied Jarvis. _It's a trap, _his mind reminded him. _Well, what isn't in a sailor's life, _he reminded his mind.

The man countenance dropped in the next message. He was unhappy about the developments. Staying in a semi-Alliance controlled space for long would be trouble. "Very well. The least you can do is wait for us." There was nothing much to do now. Reaching the space station would take some time. It was hundreds of millions of miles away. A hundred years, if a man was hundreds of millions of miles away from a settlement, he would charting across space for a mission whose briefing statement would state clearly: **You ain't coming back.** Now, the journey was commonplace. You didn't need to be a highly trained astronaut to travel the distance. Just a person with money. Or a poor person whose house was on prime property.

Two hours later.

_Tesla _slowed down for the Human Front. The Alliance Fleet rushed ahead. "How did that happen?" asked Fellaini.

"What?" I asked. Franz and Charlie had left.

"Look at the space station video. Something's wrong." Fellaini replayed the part where a ship attacked the Reaper mowing down the space station. The ship attacking was moving away from the Reaper while attacking. "Isn't a Reaper slower than a heavy cruiser? Why didn't the Reaper leave the space station to attack the heavy cruiser until so late?"

The camera shaked as the Reaper breached it using its tentacles. The lights went out and the Reaper turned towards the ship just before the video ended. "It certainly should have attacked the ship. Perhaps it thought that even if the ship escaped it would only go to a system where they'd be other Reapers waiting. Why not finish off the space station before leaving?"

"It thought? Don't they have FTL communications and a supernetwork?"

"Well then, maybe it _knew_."

"Still, the space station wasn't going nowhere." There was a notification on his screen. Fellaini spoke, "Message."

It was the man with the brilliant green eyes. "It seems your decision to save non-existant people has backfired. I hope you will listen to me now. Join in with us. We have a fight on our hand." _What?_ as Jarvis' last thought as warning bells started to ring. "A Reaper," he announced.

Fellaini shouted, "Where the hell did it come from?!" A Reaper had emerged from below the clouds of the fourth planet and was now between the human ships and the Mass Relay. It moved towards the Human Front fleet as far as it could. "Fucking hell! I thought they all went away!" shouted Fellaini as he began emergency braking manuever. He could have left the system while the Reaper fought with the Human Front fleet. Something inside him told that it was an awful idea.

The Alliance Fleet continued its run towards the planet. The Human Front turned towards the Reaper just as _Tesla _joined them. Contact was ten minutes away. Fellaini engaged autpilot swerving movements. The ship started swaying left and right from its mean position so that the Reaper would have difficulty using its laser on it.

"Please survive. I do not wish to return empty handed," the man with the green eyes' message read. Fellaini muttered abuses at the man (with the comm systems off, of course).

The Reaper steadied itself. "Four heavy cruisers and seven cruisers. I don't see the Reaper surviving," proclaimed Fellaini. "However, if it is smart, it can take three or four cruisers before it goes down. A problem for us. We are lucky we can figure out where it is going to shoot the laser before it does so, to some degree." Fellaini pressed a button, "Charlie, ready for fireworks?"

"My name, is not Charlie," came the reply.

"Franz," Fellaini said connecting to the vidcom in Franz' room. "Ready for fireworks?"

"As long as the fireworks steer clear of my computer."

Fellaini had one look at the computer to see what the Human Front planned to do and readied himself. "Time to rock and roll!"

_Tesla's_ system strained as it let fly a kinetic projectile. All it was, was a five hundred kilogram projectile flying fast enough to decimate all life on a city without breaking a metaphorical sweat. "We're too far away. It'll dodge," said Jarvis.

"Maybe. Or more likely, it will blast it away with its laser. What would you do if you were a Reaper who was against puny humans?"

"I'd rather not be compared to a Reaper."

"You'd do a show of force. Ha! Puny humans with their puny rocks! Anyone with a course of war history under their belt knows how far a show of force goes in improving the chances of victory. It deflates the opponents and instills confidence in their own ranks. And I'm sure the Reapers have been touching on their history since their defeat. Though what this one is doing here is unknown."

The Reaper took the bait and fired its lasers. _Tesla_ had moved away from the path of the rock so the laser wouldn't hit it once the rock dissolved into plasma. "Now!" They had gained a brief window of operation while the Reaper was recharging. The ships fired. Well, all but one.

"The Fuck! My systems are failing!" Fellaini was furious. "Fucking hell! Charlie! Charlie! You read me? Franz?" Silence. The laughter returned in Jarvis' mind.

"Calm down," Jarvis said. "I'll go check on them. Concentrate on flying!"

"Fucking hell. Comm is down! Munich, get here!" Fellaini shouted at his assistant pilot who was in the galaxy room working the communcatio systems. "Why the hell is this running on autopilot?! Get me control, Munich!" Munich ran across to the seat next to him. They both furiously typed on the screen, trying to restore order.

"Commander, I'm notrecieving any orders from Fellaini. The comm is down." _This is bullshit. Why is _Tesla _going out of control all of a sudden!_

Franz came running into room, "Did you run the Hijacker?"

"No!" cried Charlie. "It's still out of order!"

"Calm down, everyone," Jarvis said. "Think calmly. What could be causing this?" And then, it struck him. _The message! _"The bloody message," he exclaimed.

"Fucking yes! It was a trap. We should have checked for a virus!" shouted Franz and ran out again to get the virus out of the systems. "Five minutes!" he shouted from outside.

"Five minutes! We'll be fucking dead in five minutes!" roared Charlie. He looked at his screen. "Glenn, status?"

"We have no coordinates. Can't fire without them."

"Goddamn it! Glenn, get approx corrdinates from Fellaini. Go!" Jarvis stopped Glenn, "No, you concentrate. I'll get them." He ran out, brushing past offduty sailors on the way. Seeing the desperation in his eyes, they too rushed to their posts. _Go on, _the voice in Jarvis' head taunted him, _save them. Just like you saved me._

By the time he reached the captain's room, Jarvis was out of breath. "Fellaini... I need..."

"Take a deep breath, Commander. Time isn't essential in space," said Fellaini. He was still typing. "The virus," Jarvis said after getting his breath back. "Ya, I know. That was fucking stupid of me. That should explain what just happened," he pointed at the screen where the Alliance Fleet cruisers had crashed into the planet. "Shouldn't it also affect the Human Front ships?"

"Luckily for us, the virus was specially designed from Alliance Ship IFFs. We removed ours two weeks ago. Unfortunately, the software managed to latch on to the comm system which still had some of the IFF code remaining. That's how the Alliance Fleet had recognised us in the first place. The virus growth has been brought under control. Now we need to purge it."

Jarvis looked at the screen. _Tesla, _on virus induced autopilot, inched closer to the Reaper. "It hasn't finished us?"

"No need to. It has recognized our loss of system control and thinks, or knows, we are screwed anyway. It's concentrating on the Human Front who are the real threat."

"We are a part of the Human Front now."

"I know. Getting used to not being in the Alliance Fleet, Commander. Done! It's gone! Finally, Franz has earned his bread. Maintain trajectory. Let's surprise this motherfucker."

The ship continued on as the Human Front light cruisers attacked the Reaper. The Reaper finished recharging and plopped one of the cruisers clean out of the space. One second it was there, the next, gone. The Human Front threw more projectiles at it. The Reaper was relenting under the pressure. Another shot. This time its laser just barely skimmed past a heavy cruiser before slamming the rear of a cruiser. "Stupid fucking thing still is moving. Let's finish this."

_Tesla_ fired. What Fellaini failed to take into account was that while the Reaper didn't consider _Tesla_ as an enemy, it was still paying attention to its movement. Just before _Tesla _fired, the Reaper had noticed the guns warming up and taken the necessary calculations. Calculations which deemed _Tesla_ as the most immediate threat. Its next laser eyes turned toward the cruiser, ready. Fellaini too noticed, too late to get out of the way. The laser hit home, instantly incinerating the Intelligence room and engulfing the galaxy room in fire.

Fellaini heard the screams for help as tried to manuever out of the way. The emergency bulkhead started closing. Jarvis ran out to extinguish the fire. The Safety Officer, the one who made sure fire didn't spread, was now plasma. Jarvis tried his level best. He didn't notice the piece of melting steel that pierced his heart. The bulkheads finally closed.

Outside, the Reaper exploded into fireworks.

* * *

August 9, 2186. Aboard the _Van Hellsing_, Beta Taurus system. 0908hrs

Beta Taurus. Sold to the Commerce Union by the Systems Alliance with a clause expressively forbidding Alliance interference in the system. Home to Cerberus. Home to Human Front. Final resting place of Commander Matt Jarvis.

"The ship is not in the order I was expecting it to be in," began The Illusive Man. "Who is the acting commander?"

"The ship," began the acting commander, Fellaini, "wasn't built to fight the Reaper."

"True enough. However, I think with repairs, we can improve upon it." The Illusive Man was sitting comfortably in a leather seat, drinking a glass of wine. He looked at the reports on the screen before. The man with the brilliant green eyes and a woman stood next to him. The surviving officers of _Tesla_, Fellaini and Charlie stood in front of him.

"Most of the crew will be needing psych evals."

"Do not worry, we will make sure every one is ready." The man next to the Illusive Man gave him a datapad.

"Tell me, becuase Commander Jarvis never did, why are you helping us?"

"It is the other way around. You are helping me attain peace. We work for the betterment for the humanity. We had different methods. Unfortunately, the facilitator of your way of bettering humanity's standing in the galaxy, the Alliance Fleet, is endangering our survival. And by our, I mean humanities. My sources tell me non-human part of the Council are planning sanctions on the Fleet. A difficult task considering where the war was won."

"And the Reaper. The virus didn't work on your systems."

"Now, now. We do not steal Alliance tech. We have better sources. In any case, you should get as much rest as possible. You'll be back in space in three days."

"We don't have enough manpower. Or a commander."

"I shall provide the crew. As for the Commander, will you willing to take the assignment?"

Before Fellaini could speak, a sweet voice spoke from behind, "A soldier's life is never dull, eh?"

"The soldier's will continue to be this way till the day no soldiers are required, Commander Ellis."


End file.
